The Hunter
by indahome
Summary: The Hunter? Or the Hunted?
1. Chapter 1

Jess Harper looked across the large span of prairie below him one more time before rising from the rock and starting down the steep slope. He watched his footing as rocks and dirt gave out below him, his hands half raised as he kept his balance. His rifle was griped tightly in his hand, and the collar to his blue coat was pulled up close. The winds had picked up once more, and like the wolf, he was hunting, he desired lower warmer ground, out of the wind.

Traveler was left not much further below him, and as he hit one landing he walked for the next, starting down it with the same care he had taken for the other slope. His boots slid down the loose dirt and as the slope was steeper than the last, he paid very close attention to what he was doing. To fall was the last thing he wanted. He grimaced when he lost his balance several times and struggled to stay upright as he slid down the mountain.

Hitting the last few feet, he ran with his momentum. Stopping, he smiled dusting himself off and walking for his ride out of there. The wolf had once again proven slightly cannier than Jess, and Harper, tired of the chase, was done playing this game they seemed to have going.

Smiling he said a word or two to his horse as he walked up. Slim was just on the other side of this canyon back at camp keeping things ready and Jess was tired enough to drink even _his_ coffee. If you didn't think about it, it wasn't so bad, and he was chilled to the bone.

Stuffing his gun in its sheath he blew in his hands before taking Traveler's reins and getting ready to swing up. He lurched, fell against Traveler and slid down his horse before Traveler finally jerked from his limp fingers and took off running. His ears were pricked and the horse was still listening to the echoing boom of a rifle. Blood was streaked down the side Jess had slid, and the smell of it made the horse a tad bit more jumpy.

Harper lay still on the cold ground, the wind howling about him, and big white fluffy flakes started to fall.

The big white flakes were duly noted by Slim Sherman as well and he was ever so happy when he heard the soft tread of a horse. He had started to grow impatient for Jess' return and was thinking about going to have a look for him. Hearing the horse saved him a trip and he sat back at the fire to stay warm. However when he saw the state of Traveler, without the rider, shying away and blood all down his side, he was suddenly mounting Alamo and clopping back the way Traveler had come.

Back tracking the horse was irritating and as the flakes got heavier so did Slims dread for his partner Jess. He called his name several times looking ahead hoping that the trail was coming to an end, but he was never reworded with a reply.

The sun was going down and he could sense it, although he didn't really take any notice of it, for he was rather busy trying to follow the tracks that were quickly filling in and becoming obscured by the snow. He had to eventually dismount and carefully pick them out stopping to call every few feet. When the sun was completely gone he was almost blindly walking hoping that he was sticking to the right course.

It wasn't until his hat was piled high with snow and he was starting to shiver slightly from the cold that his eyes caught hold of a blue jacket and black hat.

"Jess…"

He froze the blood running cold and his legs went to work before his brain did. He scooped him up in his arms simply holding him there a moment. His gloved hands closed tight around Jess' middle and he looked at the blood stain that partially covered the left side of the coat. The low shoulder shot had bled a good deal and Slim noticed that it hadn't come out the front. A good thing in some ways, a very _very _bad thing in others.

"Jess…" Slim mumbled again rubbing his jaw with his hand a moment before he carefully got him up and over to his horse.


	2. Chapter 2

In no time at all, Slim was dusting snow from Harper, while tucking him under the blankets right up close to the fire. Once Jess was as comfortable as possible, Slim had a peak at the bullet wound in his back.

Harper moaned and Slim moved down to his face. An easy, worried smile slipped across his mouth.

"Hey pard." Slim said softly. "You gave me quite a start back in the snow there…"

"S-slim?" his face screwed up in confusion and he moved.

It was slight, every so slight yet it sent him groaning and Slim frowning.

"Just rest easy Jess. You still got the bullet all caught up in your back and I gotta figure a way outta this one, so just rest easy."

Jess nodded slowly and Slim smiled accordingly as the eyes dropped shut and Harper was once more lost to the world of knowing. It was then that the frown fished its way back on Sherman's face and looked as though it was there to stay. The bullet was deep. It was in there very deep, and he had nothing more than his hunting knife and jackknife to use.

The snow was coming down hard and the nearest town was (some number of miles) away. Slim had to make a very quick and calculated decision. He would have to give it a wing himself.

The knife he choice to use was pushed into the hot coals of the fire. He walked to his pack getting the rest of what he desired and came slowly back to Jess. When he was ready, and the bloody hole in the back of a very close friend was looking up at him, there was a very brief pause of hesitation. The knife clutched in his hand, he shifted on his feet. Looking heaven ward into the snow drifting safely pass him, he sent up a small word of grace. There was no hesitation after that. The knife slipped in and out came a sharp groan from Harper, gasping in his unconsciousness.

When he went to squirming some, Slim planted a firm hand on his shoulder as he worked to get the bullet out. It was deep. Maybe too deep. Maybe he should have waited. He was rewarded for his pains when he felt the tip of the knife graze the offending metallic object.

With a rush of blood, a gasping cry from Jess, and a hurried sigh from Slim, the bullet slid out into Sherman's hand and the knife was quickly pulled away replaced with the rags Slim had sitting next to him. He pressed and Jess again cried in pain.

Slim shivered as he finished tying off the bandage. He covered up Harper as best he could and blew into his hands sitting back.

They were shaded from the wind and snow, hidden in a little cleft in the rock. It was cramped with them and the horses close, but it was dry, and at the moment it was the best Slim could offer to Jess.

Black coffee splashed into his cup and he wrapped his hands around it sitting back and watching Jess sleep. His mind started to wander and he scrubbed his face. Now just how had Jess gotten shot anyway? The answer was obvious but it did nothing to tell him why.

Sure Jess had some people who didn't like him, from his _past_ but there was no one Slim knew of in Laramie that would do all this. And no one but Daisy and Mike knew they were coming up here to hunt. Unless of course someone had gotten the information from her…

Slim shook his head and glanced back at Jess groaning in his unrestful sleep. No that just didn't seem right. Not for something like this. But he chose to not rule it out.

His rifle was resting easy in his hands and he slipped up closer to the fire careful not to look directly at it. He had Jess to get home, Mike and Daisy to look in on, and he needed to make sure that everything there way was fine and dandy, just in case the shooter went to make sure Jess was really dead.

Sitting back against the rock wall, Slim looked at the snow falling rather quickly and sighed. Jess groaning and moving caused Slim's eyes to jerk over to him and he was on his feet in a second sitting next to Jess, gently pushing him back.

"Easy Jess…" He said softly. "Take it easy."

"W-what happened?" He groaned.

"Funny," Slim forced up a smile. "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

Jess shook his head exhausted. "D-don't remember."

A worried frown deepened itself across his face as Jess screwed up in pain and gave a short lived groan.

"Rest Jess…" Slim said softly pushing that smile back on. "You have a long day tomorrow."

There was a barely noticeable nod as Jess closed his eyes, dipping off faster than he'd awoke.


	3. Chapter 3

Slim frowned and listened to the wind howl.

The wind, biting through the night and rushing around the cliffs of the canyon, it cut through the rock and sounded like the wolf they had hunted. It pushed it shoved and it scattered the snow into piles brushing clear the high places and piling it up in the lowest of low places. The tops of the tall pines swayed with it and high up on the cliff sat a man, rifle in hand.

His old eyes gleamed down at the hazy gray below, and his heavy coat brushed at his cheeks. His shoes were moccasins and his coat was stitched together fur of a buffalo and a fox around his neck. He had a coonskin cap to cover his thin gray hair and his pants were dear skin. His face had aged and hardened from the punishment of being in the harsh air for too long, and his hands were large and strong from years of hard labor. His eyes were blue, but so very blue they almost looked white, and on his left hand he lacked half a pinky.

The large man stood and turned away from the cliff heading back for the warmth of the fire he had for himself. He put his gun down and pulled off the heavy mittens catching up a cup. Tomorrow he would go and see about the young men troubling his mountain. They had come too close to his secret and he planned to let them return not to their home. He would finish them in the morning.

…..

Slim's head snapped up off his knees and he looked around slightly embarrassed that he had allowed himself to fall asleep. Sitting up he fixed up the fire and warmed the old coffee. Jess groaned softly his hand clenching and unclenching softly as his eyebrows worked up and down.

Slim poured a cup and took a sip looking out over the land of snow and at the very soft purple of the morning sun. They had worked their way fairly high up onto the mountain and it was time to come down. The wolf could have the high ground.

He tossed his coffee aside and rose quickly to get Jess ready. His head snapped suddenly, his body twisted and at the same time he fell crashing for the earth and landing close to the fire as the rifle boomed from the ferns so very close. The old man cursed his horse and his lousy luck and quickly pushed into the clearing. His muzzle just touched Slim's bloodied hair and he brushed it slightly. He had every intentions of pulling the trigger, not it a great hurry to get the job done, but his eyes lifted to the soft groan and he froze solid where he sat.

"Jess…" He whispered. "Jess."

He was off his horse in a minute crouched next to Harper and was peering into his face his hand hovering over his head, afraid to touch him.

"Jess, my boy," he whispered his hand seeping into the thick chocolate brown hair and he gently rubbed the head.

He started to cry as Jess groaned softly and his hands shook as bitterly he looked at his rifle. Walking to his horse he pulled the great bay into the camp area and lifted Jess off the ground. He moved the slighter man with ease, putting him up on the saddle. He was behind him in a moment and his rifle once more turned for Slim, but because he had been nice to Jess, the gun was slowly un-cocked and slid back into a brand new sheath. The aged man looked ahead a moment before he started his horse away slowly from the camp.

….

The sun was high overhead before groggily Slim groaned and his eyes parted. His vision was fuzzy and out of focus, taking him a moment before he could raise off the ground slightly. His hand went to his head and his fingers pushed through his hair until they were stopped by dry blood. He hissed, and gently pulled his hand away struggling to rise. He got one knee under himself and then another before his eyes darted across the camp.

His mouth dropped flabbergasted.

"Jess?" He hollered and winced cradling his head. Yelling was defiantly out.

Determination struck and he put his feet under himself, blanking a moment when his wobbly legs finally stood. He chanced opening his eyes and found himself looking at the lazy sun. Pain shot through his head and with a groan he fell once more to the blessed darkness lingering about.

….

Jefferson Tilbit, pulled Harper slowly from the saddle and carried him gently into the house cradling him lovingly in his arms. He watched his boy sleep a moment before he took him inside the house and laid him with care in his bed. His hands once more ran through Jess' hair and he smiled fondly at him going to fetch a pan of water and a rag to battle the raging fever.

His talked softly to Harper as he worked telling him of the years missed between them, and how he thought the war had captured his boy. His boy Jess. Then his lips quivered and he brought himself close to tears when he apologized for nearly killing Jess himself. He promised to make him better and he promised things would be right between them, making sure to do everything possible to insure their time together.

The sun sank low and he lit a candle going to the fire to get a plate of beans, when Jess stirred.

"S-slim…?" he slurred, his head rolling and his eyes hazily looking around confused.

"Jess?" The old man dropped in front of him and took his hand. "Jess, my boy." He smiled. "Jess."

Harper frowned and looked away. A million questions flooded his head at once, but he was exhausted and it hurt to talk, so he chose the one he found to be the most important.

"W-where's… Slimm…?" He mumbled, and Jefferson frowned.

"He's gone boy, I sent him home. It's just you and me now. Just you and me."

"No…" Jess rolled his head with a huff.

He never finished his thought however for it was simply too much work and as he struggled to speak Tilbit softly stroked his head trying to calm him.


End file.
